Page 67 of King of Pain
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Jen says brightly, stepping in first with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bakery box in the other. “Smells like heaven in here.”
Lexi follows, holding a pie carrier, her curls bouncing as she beams. “You all arrived at the same time?” I ask, taking the carrier from her. “Yeah,” she laughs. “I ran into these two just as I was leaving my apartment for the strenuous twenty-foot journey to your door.”
Butters is the last to enter, grinning and balancing a six-pack of craft beer in one hand and a large platter in the other. “Damn, PacMan. You never disappoint. Smells insane in here. Oh, and I brought your special request, bro,” he hollers.
From the kitchen, Ant pokes his head out, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Cannoli? Yes!” His voice is filled with so much excitement, it’s impossible not to smile. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my hands off him when he’s so… electrified.
Lexi peers into the kitchen, surely taking in the scene as Ant moves from pot to pot like he’s conducting a symphony of flavors. She shakes her head in amazement. “Whoa. Are you secretly a caterer or something?”
“Not quite. Just an Italian kid who spent way too much time in his grandma’s kitchen,” Ant tells her.
I grin, hearing them as I’m closing the front door behind everyone. “No, there’s no catering here, but Antisa genius in the kitchen. Let me take your coats.” I reach for their jackets, and they each hand them over while murmuring their thanks.
“Wine and hard liquor are in the dining area and there’s a cooler on the patio with beer, soda and bottled water. Glasses are over here,” I tell them, gesturing toward the kitchen table.
Everyone makes their way inside, filling the space with chatter and laughter. Jen pauses as she steps into the dining room, inhaling deeply. “No, seriously. I can’t wait to eat. Did you help with the cooking, Chance?”
I laugh. Loudly. “No, it was all Ant,” I say, glancing toward him in the kitchen. He’s focused on something at the stove; brow furrowed in concentration. I walk over and place a hand on his arm, rubbing it gently. “He’s been at it since the crack of dawn, and he hasn’t stopped. This might turn out to be the best Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had.”
Ant looks up, startled by the compliment, but his lips twitch into a tentative, shy smile. “You’re exaggerating,” he mutters, but the blush creeping up his neck says he likes hearing it.
Jen and Lexi exchange a pointed look behind him, their expressions a mix of amusement and knowing.
“Can I help with anything?” Jen asks, stepping closer to the kitchen, seemingly ready to jump in.
Ant whirls around, dramatically points his whisk at her, and declares firmly, “No. Nope. You’re not allowed in the kitchen,” though there’s a teasing edge to his voice. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. Just relax, have a drink, and stay out of my way.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Jen mock-salutes, retreating to the living room with a grin.
I finish making a drink and bring it into the living room, where Jen and Lexi are already settled on the couch, talking about their favorite Thanksgiving movies.
Glancing back at Ant, I catch the slight upward curve of his lips as he works in the kitchen. Fuck, I don’t think I’d ever get tired of seeing him like this—confident, comfortable, and in his element. I wish I could give that to him every minute of every day.
Jen’s been blatantly flirting with Lexi since they arrived. At one point, she leans close and whispers something that makes Lexi laugh.
“You’re wasting your time, Jen,” Butters interjects, grinning. “Lexi’s spending a lot of time with my boy Beau lately.”
Jen rolls her eyes. “And here I thought I had a chance.”
Lexi stands up, looks at them both and says, “The night is young,” and saunters off to the dining room.
Jen falls back against the couch, draping the back of her hand across her forehead dramatically. Butters doubles over, falling to the floor in hysterical laughter.
We gather around the table, sharing drinks and trading snarky banter, the kind that feels like second nature now. As I glance around at the people filling the room with laughter, my eyes inevitably drift back to Ant in the kitchen, effortlessly commanding the space.
A warmth settles in my chest, unfamiliar but welcome. In just a few short months, I’ve found myself surrounded by friendships that feel like they could last a lifetime—and one connection I hope grows into something so much more.
Dinner is a hit. The food is outstanding, as expected, with each dish delivering an explosion of flavor.
During a lull in conversation, I take the opportunity to stand and raise my glass. “I just want to say how thankful I am for all of you. Moving here alone was scary, but you’ve made it feel like home. I never knew what the term ‘found family’ really meant until this very moment. And to my unbelievably talented, generous and beautiful roomie—” I tip my glass toward Ant,who’s sitting directly across from me. “—thank you for this meal and for creating a new meaning to Thanksgiving for me. It was never a good experience in my home growing up, but this... this is something I’ll always remember.”
Our eyes lock, and the world seems to fall away. He holds my gaze, his expression unreadable but soft. The moment stretches, thick with things unspoken.
Jen fans herself dramatically, breaking the silence. “Holy shit! I’ve never seen anyone text‘you up?’with their eyes before.” She turns to Lexi, her tone playful. “It’s hot in here. Wanna take a cold shower with me?”
Lexi twirls one of her bouncy curls, giving Jen a sly smile. “Keep filling my wine glass, and we’ll see.”
Without missing a beat, Jen leaps up to grab the bottle.
